


An Orderly Engagement

by thequeergiraffe



Series: Mischief Managed [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And yay! Remus finally gets laid, But then so is everyone else, F/M, M/M, MWPP Era, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Sirius is a slut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeergiraffe/pseuds/thequeergiraffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After James and Lily had moved in together, there seemed to be an unspoken rule: In Sirius' apartment, he and James were lovers. Outside of those walls, they were merely the best of friends. It wasn't exactly an optimal situation but Sirius couldn't bear to imagine the alternative, and so he went along with it as smilingly as he could manage.</p><p>(Won't make much sense unless you've read parts one and two.)<br/>---------------------------------------------------<br/>THIS FIC IS A CONSTRUCTION ZONE!<br/>Approach the chapters herein as WiPs. I'm planning to finish this one soon, hopefully, and start work on Part Four (the final part, and probably the hardest...for obvious reasons). But I don't want to get anyone's hopes up by claiming I'll post updates weekly or anything because I'm really not sure.<br/>---<br/>ON HIATUS UNTIL JANUARY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 9/28/12: I have every intention of finishing this fic by Christmas. It's on my to-do list. Definitely not forgotten or abandoned. I'm hoping to resume posting around Thanksgiving.

"I'm thinking of proposing to Lily."

Sirius climbed out of the big, downy bed and stretched luxuriously, his muscles tightening and relaxing. Scooping up his knickers from the floor, he said in a casual tone, "Really?" He stood and turned, facing James as he pulled his pants on. "How do her parents feel about that?"

"Bugger her parents!" James sat up and ran an impatient hand through his messy hair. "How do you feel?"

Sirius pretended to consider this as he tugged on his jeans. "Well, I haven't met them. And," he winked before his head disappeared under his shirt and reappeared, his brown hair wild, "you know I'm not much for doing the buggering." He leaned over the bed and kissed James' forehead delicately. "Or hadn't you noticed?" He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on a pair of socks and a worn-out looking pair of trainers. "I always let you top, don't I?"

James made a frustrated noise and plucked his glasses from the nightstand, shoving them on with a pout. "Be serious for once. Please."

Sirius couldn't get over how adorable James looked in those glasses. He beamed at him and said, "I'm always Sirius, love." His shoes tied and his jacket zipped, he kissed James once more and said, "Now, do remember to throw up the enchantments when you let yourself out, mmm? Our furry friend said you forgot last time."

James made to protest, but Sirius was gone before he could.

* * *

Taking the steps two at a time, Sirius whistled softly as he left the building which housed his London flat. He smiled a little at the cherry red beauty waiting for him outside, his girl, his hog. He hopped astride the great beast and revved her, grinning at the purr and tugging on his helmet. That was one of the first things he'd bought last year, when he'd gotten his inheritance money: one perfect, lovely, flashing red 1959 Triumph Bonneville T120 motorbike, in what his distant relation Arthur Weasley had called "beyond working order" when he'd sold it to Sirius. In fact, Mr. Weasley- an Order member, and an all around good guy with a decent-sized brood of redheaded children and a plump, pleasant wife- seemed in a rather hurry to be rid of the bike, which he whisperingly confessed he had "salvaged" from work and fixed up in his shed, unbeknownst to his bonny bride. It was a Muggle artifact, and a beaut, but it had some…modifications. For one thing, it could fly (which pleased Sirius immensely, as he hated Apparating and felt broomsticks were too precarious for long trips). It was also magically enlarged, with a sidecar attachment should he need it. This made it both exceptionally illegal and terrifically delightful, and Sirius had bought it outright the very moment he set eyes on it.

Sirius goaded the bike into traffic. He enjoyed driving in London, though he suspected that even amongst Muggles, that was a rare joy. He liked the mad traffic, and the tight squeezes, and the big red buses that dwarfed his little darling and sent his hair dancing as they rode past. As he rode, the wind tugging at his jacket, he contemplated James' query and found himself thinking, instead, of the events of the last year.

The Order of the Pheonix, that delightful brood…he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without them. The work he did was enjoyable and meaningful in a world that was slowly coming apart at the seams. Mostly, Dumbledore had Sirius transporting Muggleborns and their families out of the country, to safe houses in Ireland, France and Spain...even America! The transcontinental flights were quick work on the bike, and he liked transporting the kids, though he wasn't always fond of their parents. It surprised Sirius to find that he was really quite good with kids, and he often found himself wishing he had one of his own…though how that could ever be possible, he couldn't imagine.

He flicked his signal and drifted into the left lane. A young man, dark haired and thin as Sirius' brother, gave his bike an appreciative look from the sidewalk, and Sirius' heart hurt for just a moment. After his father had died, on the day of his graduation, Sirius had had one last conversation with his brother. It didn't go well; it was more of shouting match than anything else, and they'd parted ways with more enmity for each other than ever. Three weeks later, Dumbledore informed Sirius that he had disappeared.  _Regulus, you fool…_ Sirius cleared his throat, swung the bike around a sharp corner, and willed himself to think of anything else.

James, it always came back to that. The last year with James had been…indescribable. They had spent the month after school was over in a makeshift tent in the woods, learning every dip and hollow of the other's body. The sex was…there were no words for it. Unreal, mind-blowing…Sirius didn't have a vocabulary profound enough to put terms to it. But it was  _good_ , that was certain. James was a very caring lover. When Sirius got his own flat, James often wound up there, tangled in his sheets, and Sirius couldn't pretend he minded. And after James and Lily had moved in together, there seemed to be an unspoken rule: In Sirius' apartment, they were lovers. Outside of those walls, they were merely the best of friends. It wasn't exactly an optimal situation, but Sirius couldn't bear to imagine the alternative, and so he went along with it as smilingly as he could manage.

 _There it is. Burgundy shutters. Hideous mint green siding. Can't miss it._ Sirius shook his head, laughing a little, and eased the bike up to the curb. Cutting her off, he sat for a moment, tugging off the helmet and shaking out his hair. Things had turned out pretty okay, hadn't they? Lily was his friend again, as much as she ever would be. Being in the Order meant he had reason to run into all of his friends, even ever-distant Peter, who seemed to be evolving, fashion-wise, into something of a punk, to everyone's great amusement. Sirius swing off the bike and stretched his legs. Sure, things had turned out okay. For now.

* * *

The job done and the trip over, Sirius jogged up the steps to his flat and waved away the Muggle-repelling charms and simple protection spells that guarded his home. Upon entering, he tossed them back up again effortlessly and hung his helmet on a hook near the door, yawning. The house was quiet; Moony must have been out.  _Good_ , Sirius thought, rubbing his eyes. He was spent.

Entering the living room, he stopped and grimaced. There was a distinct squeaking coming from Remus' room, accompanied by panting and the occasional small gasp. Trying his best to ignore it, Sirius went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

"Oh! Oh, oh, yes!" called a female voice from Remus' bedroom, and Sirius rolled his eyes. When he had agreed to let a room to Remus, his friend was an insufferably bookish virgin. Unfortunately for Sirius, a certain married Auror had changed all that some months back. The squeaking grew more rapid, and now a male groaning joined the cacophony. Sirius gulped his water down and made a face as the woman gasped: "Ooooooh, Remus, yes yes oh ruddy hell yes!" There was a deep growl, a groan, and long and distinctly female moan…then silence. Before Sirius could manage to wash his glass and sneak off to his room, Remus' door was swinging open.

"Oh, back already?" Remus was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped about his waist, his chest white and trailed with small, pale scars. He gave Sirius a wry smile and a small, half-hearted shrug. "Hand me a couple of glasses, would you?"

Sirius did. The good thing about having Remus as a flatmate was that both of them were willing to overlook each others' indiscretions. Sirius knew that Remus was boffing Alice Longbottom, and Remus knew that Sirius and James had it off behind closed doors on a fairly regular basis, but thankfully for both parties, these were things both roommates were willing to ignore. Remus filled the glasses with cold tea and made his way back to his room. Turning at the door, he said, "Oh, and would you talk to James? When I got home, the Muggle repellants were up, but the protection spells weren't. Most agitating."

"Come back to bed, pet," called Alice, and Remus colored slightly before obeying, his door clicking quietly closed behind him.

Sirius quickly followed suit, heading to his own room and softly shutting the door.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a letter on the bed, James' neat scrawl on the envelope.  _Sirius_ , said the envelope.  _Please read ASAP._

Sirius smiled a little and sat down, kicking off his shoes. He opened the envelope and plucked out the letter, tugging off his socks with one hand and unfolding the parchment with the other.

_Love:_

_Are you angry with me? I didn't mean to upset you. But you and I both know that Lily and I are going to get married someday. With the way things are, the war and You-Know-Who snatching up Muggleborns left and right…_

_I love you. You know that. I love her, and you know that as well. Please just tell me how you feel. I'd never want to do anything to lose you, but I don't want to lose her either. And she's been hinting. I told you I met her parents, and that dreadful sister of hers. Yesterday she was reading about some wedding in the Prophet and she got all teary-eyed. Women need that sort of thing._

_I don't want our relationship to end. If I get married, what will change? Lily and I already live together. So we might have kids, big deal. You love kids! Don't you want some godsons and goddaughters to spoil? Please be okay with this, love. Please. Please tell me everything's okay. I love you. Write me as soon as you can._

_Yours, Prongs_

Sirius ran a hand down his face and sighed. He set the letter on his nightstand, where James' glasses had lain that afternoon, and began to cry. It was very gentle and unexpected at first, small tears wiggling down his cheeks and into the stubbly, coarse facial hair he'd been experimentally growing for a few days. Soon silent sobs racked his body, held in and hushed by his hands pressed firm to his mouth. He tried to stop himself and couldn't, and so he dashed to the on-suite bathroom, thankful that he didn't have to leave the privacy of his bedroom, and turned the shower on. Leaning against the tub, he let the water mask the awful noises he couldn't contain and cried until nothing came out, no tears, no sobs, just shaking breaths which grew deeper and steadier over time.

He awoke on the cold tile, his back stiff. Sitting up, it took him a moment to remember why he was lying on the bathroom floor with the shower on. Then he was flooded with feeling, shame and anger vying equally for his attention. He stood up, brushed himself off, willed away his feelings, and turned off the shower. His eyes closed, he breathed carefully and slowly, allowing the pain to fade away into nothingness. It was a trick he'd learned from one of Dumbledore's friends, a small man from the East who had done some favors for the Order some months ago. "You can feel nothing," the old man had taught. "Erase it from yourself, remove it, examine it. You are the master of your heart."

"I am the master of my heart," Sirius whispered, feeling immediately foolish. He washed his face and went back into his room, settling down at the little writing desk.

_J.,_

_Whatever you decide to do, I'll be here. I'm looking forward to receiving my invitation. Please stop worrying so much. Things are good._

_Your best man, S._

* * *

A week later, the Order was eating lunch in the small inn-room they used as a meeting place above the Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta, the lovely woman that ran the bar, had set up a several tables, pushing them together at the center of the room. It was cozy but cramped. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, eating with apparent delight. He had insisted that business wait until the meal had been dispatched, and so the people around him talked about other things, war rumors and Quidditch scores, conditions abroad, the health of their friends and families. To Dumbledore's left sat Emmeline Vance, a pretty, taut-faced young woman with cat's eyes and severe cheekbones. She ate silently and diligently. Across from her was Alastor Moody, his magical eye swiveling. Beside him were the Prewett brothers, and across from them sat the Weasleys. Molly chatted amiably with her brothers; Arthur tried to inconspicuously eye her fleshy curves. Then there was Sturgis Podmore and Dorcas Meadowes, arguing over the results of the 1926 Quidditch World Cup as though they had been there. Elphias Doge and Caradoc Dearborn were teasing a nervous Edgar Bones over some mishap they'd come across on a recent patrol, and Dedalus Diggle tried and failed to keep the attention of Benjy Fenwick as he discussed the disbanding of his gobstones club two years back. Frank and Alice Longbottom were discussing something heatedly and in low tones. At the end of the table sat Lily and James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius. Peter was wearing his hair long and black, and James was teasing him, saying he looked like Snivellus Junior. Remus was drawing up a grocery list and pretending he wasn't concerned about the argument between the Longbottoms, carefully watching Alice's lips when he thought no one was looking.

"Sirius, have we got any cheese at home?" he mumbled, still watching Alice, his eyes dark.

"Mm. Dunno, mate." Sirius glanced over at Lily, who was laughing prettily at something James had said. James touched her arm casually, possessively, his smile genuine and loving, and Sirius looked away.

A sudden tapping from the other end of the table drew their attention. Dumbledore was standing and smiling, his glasses glinting. "My dear friends and associates, it is with great pleasure that I allow young James Potter to make an announcement." He gestured at James, who stood, suddenly anxious.

Sirius felt his heart drop and hit the floor with a pathetic thud.

"Thank you, sir," said James with a tiny bow. Dumbledore smiled benevolently, and James smiled back, shakily. He turned to Lily and took a deep breath. "Lily, the first time I saw you, we were eleven. We were on the Hogwarts Express, and you were with some bony, greasy-haired prat." Laughter from the group. "I knew right away that you were the girl for me, and eight years later I haven't changed my mind." Gulping, he dropped to one knee and produced a small box from his pocket, garnering some gasps. Lily grinned as James said, "Lily Evans, will you be my wife?"

Under the table a rough hand took Sirius' and squeezed lightly. Sirius looked up at Remus, who was watching him sympathetically.

"Of course, oh, yes!" cried Lily, leaping up and taking James into her arms. The room erupted into applause. Dumbledore dabbed at his eyes. Alice crossed her arms. Sirius stood and slipped out of the room unnoticed. Downstairs, he ordered a stiff drink and leaned his face against the cool bar. Rosmerta said nothing, serving him with almost knowing silence. He threw the drink back and ordered another, then one more. Then he slipped back upstairs and sat down heavily, his head swimming.


	3. Chapter 3

An impromptu engagement party was arranged at Lily and James' house at Godric's Hollow, and most of the Order (minus the ones on patrol and, with deep regret, Dumbledore) intended to go. Sirius didn't want to, but he wasn't sure how to get out of it…until Remus announced that he wasn't feeling well, not in the least, and that he would need Sirius to accompany him to St. Mungo's at once. With concern and a tinge of relief mixed with shame, Sirius led a hunched Remus out to the motorbike and loaded him into the sidecar. The others watched as Sirius fired her up and Remus gave a low, shaky groan of pain, and then they were off, jetting down the street and then lifting perfectly into the air, the wind rushing. It was always an exhilarating ride, regardless of circumstance, but Sirius put on his best worried face and glanced over at Remus…

…who was grinning and leaning over the edge of the sidecar, staring with wonder at the world below. He sat up and beamed at Sirius. "Amazing! No wonder you love this thing!"

"Are you better, then?" asked Sirius, with mixed feelings.

Remus laughed. "Oh, I was never ill. I hope I wasn't being presumptuous in assuming you'd gladly miss the party. I just didn't much want to go. I'm happy for them, but…" He shrugged, and a smile broke across his face again. "Set a course for Ireland, won't you? Let's go to that bar we like and get knackered."

Sirius turned the great cherry red beast just a touch and lifted her elevation, to Remus' delight. They sailed through the early evening sunlight as the sky turned gold, then pink, around them.

* * *

The bar in which they soon found themselves was packed and warm, despite the rattling of the windows and the harsh wind that howled through the little valley. An old stone fireplace blazed magnificently, and around it sat several old men, who sang and cheered as their chess pieces battled valiantly. Remus and Sirius sat in a corner, their backs to the wall, surrounding by empty pint glasses.

Remus hiccupped. "What a lovely place," he sighed, his cheeks pink.

Nodding, Sirius took a swig from his pint. "Much better than going to some…some… _stupid_ engagement party." His eyelids felt heavy; he had to blink to keep them open.

"Yeah, yeah…I mean," Remus paused and lifted a finger. "Alice would have been there. Which…is nice. But, but then so would have Frank." He lifted his drink and added, "That would be…not so nice."

"Alice, sure." Sirius pulled a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and tapped one out. He struggled to light it for a moment, then took a deep drag and let the smoke out slowly, watching it trail out into the air. "What's going on with that, eh? You two fuck like rabbits."

Remus laughed. "No! We fuck like…like…wolves. Sure. Have you ever seen rabbits fucking, mate? It's not terribly," he gave a little burp, "erotic."

Sirius waved his fingers in the air, ash dropping from his cigarette into the mess of beer and whiskey- Muggle drinks, though fine ones- on the table. "Do you ever, I don't know, talk? Is just…is it a sex thing? Or more?"

"Oh, don't get heavy on me," pouted Remus. He nodded at the barmaid, a pretty, pale-faced woman with raven-dark hair, and she began to pour them more drinks. Turning back to Sirius, he sighed, "Yeah. We talk. Have I told her I love her? No." He smiled and passed the woman a small tip, his eyes following her as she walked away. "I don't know, Sirius," he said abruptly, bringing his full concentration back to the conversation. "I'd like to do awful things with that little bar-wench…but I'd feel like shit for it. That's gotta mean something, eh?" He slammed back his shot and cringed.

Sirius did likewise. "Sometimes," he said, his voice rough with drink, "sometimes I think about telling James:  _look, mate, this is over. We're through._ And then…but hell. I don't even know how I'd go about finding anyone else."

Patting him sympathetically, Remus leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "You and me, mate, we're as star-crossed as they come."

"Doomed, eh? Sure. Maybe."

"Ill-fated." Remus cracked an eye and chuckled darkly. "And with the war…Suppose this is like those Muggle plays where everyone dies at the end of their own doing?"

"Shut up, Remus," Sirius growled half-jokingly.

They fell into an easy silence. Sirius was beginning to drift off when the front door slammed open, the wind pushing through and nipping at their clothes. Like a cold slap across the face, the effect was sobering, and his eyes flew open.

At the door were two men in black cloaks. The sight of them made the cozy little bar grow cold and silent. They stepped in, letting the door fall closed behind them, and pushed off their hoods.

Sirius bit his lip to keep in a gasp. The taller of the two men was someone he recognized instantly, the beauty of his sharp, haughty features and ice-blonde hair both familiar and threatening. Lucius Malfoy took a step toward the center of the room, sweeping his long hair over his shoulder and smiling a cat's smile. The man beside him was almost impossibly unattractive in comparison, his features dull and broad, his beetled eyebrows dark and his bald head scarred. He was older, maybe in his thirties, and he scanned the room with a suspicious gaze so unlike Malfoy's confident superiority that it seemed cartoonish in its contrast.

"By order of the Dark Lord, everyone in this tavern will present to me their identifications," Lucius drawled, still smiling, "or else, be killed at once. Should there be an issue, my servant will attend to it." He gestured at the ugly fellow, who looked as though being called Malfoy's "servant" had been distasteful to him.

There was a sudden flurry of motion as people scrambled for their Ministry-issued ID cards. Remus patted his pockets, but Sirius held up a hand and he let his own fall into his lap. They watched as Malfoy paced slowly, scrutinizing every card. "Mudblood," he said once, tossing the card at a young man with freckles and wide, sea-green eyes. "Stand by the door. Do  _not_ try anything foolish." The young man obeyed, trembling. Lucius seemed to find all of the old men's ID cards in good order, and he moved to Sirius and Remus' table, letting his cool gaze fall on the pair.

"Identifications," he said, sounding almost surprised that they had not eagerly presented them at once.

Sirius stood, his chair scraping the wooden floor. "No."

Lucius was quick, but Sirius was quicker. The hex Malfoy had cast was absorbed by Sirius' protection spell in an instant.

Looking briefly angry and flummoxed, Lucius raised his wand again…and then paused, a curious look shining in his eyes. "Ah," he said softly, "I thought you looked familiar." He lowered his wand and flashed his white teeth at Sirius. "Cousin, how you've grown. I should have recognized that jaw, and those eyes, at once. If ever anyone was a Black…"

Sirius gritted his teeth. "Didn't you hear? I've been disowned."

"Oh, yes, I've heard." Lucius' smile widened. "Your poor, dear mother was just at the manor, what, not two weeks ago, crying into her handkerchief. One son dead, the other a blood traitor. Tsk, tsk. What has become of the great family Black?"

"My brother-"

"The Dark Lord tells me he died pitifully, soiling himself. What a shame."

Sirius felt his arm swing out on its own volition. His fist connected with Lucius' jaw, just for a moment, before he was flung back, a curse hitting him square in the chest. He slammed into the wall behind him with a gasp. Drawing his wand, he shot out a curse-


	4. Chapter 4

-And then the world began to spin sickeningly. Sirius clutched his stomach, dimly aware of a hand on his arm, and tried not to heave. When the world settled around him, Sirius realized he was standing in Hogsmeade, the cool night air turning his breath to white puffs. Beside him stood Remus, his eyes wide. Before Sirius could speak, Remus grabbed his arm and shouted, "Godric's Hollow!" The world spun again. Sirius coughed and choked, the liquor and the Apparation making him dizzy and ill. When they stopped again he fell to the ground and vomited for what felt like ages.

"Bloody hell," he sputtered, wiping his chin. "What'd you do that for? As if once wasn't bad enough." He retched again, though his stomach was empty. He was totally sober now, his heart racing.

"They heard me say 'Hogsmeade', didn't they? I didn't want them to chase us."

"My bike!" Sirius sat back, panting. "My bike! Oh, Merlin, and that Muggleborn kid! Remus, we've got to go back!"

"No, no way, we're not evenly matched-"

"Wynder's Pub!" Sirius cried. Again, the ground below him disappeared and he spun through nothingness, his empty stomach threatening to contract again. The wind struck him first, assaulting him in its viciousness, and then the cool, damp ground was below him once more and he was heaving, coughing, turning up nothing but bile and shaking gasps. A crack in the air beside him made him jump; then Remus was there, stooping next to him, his face lined with worry.

"You imbecile!" Remus said fiercely, pulling Sirius to his feet. "I almost grabbed you, but I didn't want either of us to splinch." He shook his head and whispered angrily, "Suppose they had found you out here, alone and vomiting?"

"Suppose they've killed that kid, Remus?" Sirius stood shakily and wiped his mouth. "We're wasting time! Let's go!"

Remus looked about to argue, but another crack in the air gave them both pause. James appeared before them, his eyes wide with worry. "I heard you!" he said, a lit cigarette still in his hand. "I was outside and…Damn it, what's going on?"

"Death Eaters." Remus nodded back at the tavern. "Is anyone else coming?"

"No, it was only me outside, and I didn't tell anyone I was leaving."

"We'll talk later! Come on!" snapped Sirius. He ran off towards the pub, and the other two had no choice but to follow.

They were nearly to the door when it flew open and Malfoy's associate stepped out, the young man with the freckles in tow. The poor boy was frozen with fright, his arms crossed over his chest, and the stout Death Eater yanked him forward, then pushed him to the ground and sent a kick into his ribs.

"Hey!" Sirius cried, drawing his wand. " _Incarcerous!_ " Thick rope flew from his wand and wound its way around the stout man, binding him tightly. " _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

Malfoy appeared in the doorway, his teeth bared and wand ready. At once, James and Remus shouted spells: " _Expelliarmus!_ " " _Impedimenta!_ " In a flash of blonde hair, Malfoy ducked away, the spells missing him entirely.

"Sod it all!" James swore. He and Remus exchanged glances and charged forward, leaping through the doorway and careening into the pub. Sirius stayed behind, his eyes focused on the young man, who had immediately dropped face-down on the ground as soon as the fighting had begun.

He knelt down beside him, touching his shoulder very gently. "Are you all right?"

The boy looked up, his face streaked with dirt, those sea-green eyes still wide and startled. He looked to be close to Sirius in age, with a square, clenched jaw and sandy blonde hair that tumbled over into his eyes. "Why did you interfere?" he hissed, daring a glance back to the pub.

For a moment, Sirius thought he might have been an undercover Order-member. Leaning in, he muttered, "Are you here on orders, then?"

The boy blinked at him. "What?" He shook his head and groaned, "They're going to kill us now, I just know it! Your friends…I bet they've already got your friends! Oh hell, oh hell,  _why_  did you have to interfere?"

From the doorway, Remus said, in annoyed tones, "Malfoy's gone. I suppose he Disapparated, though no one heard where he went…or saw him go, for that matter. We checked every inch of the pub but he's just…gone."

"I told you!" cried the boy, though he sat up and rubbed his filthy hands down his trousers. "They've got him! The…the Death Eaters."

"What's he going on about?" said James, stepping outside. He fished in his pockets for a moment and drew out a pack of cigarettes.

"I thought…" The boy looked at the three of them in astonishment. "Well, I suppose I thought this 'Malfoy' was, well, him." He gestured to James, who smiled a little.

"James Potter," he said, cupping his hand around his cigarette.

Remus frowned- he was never a fan of the habit- and looked down at the bound, frozen Death Eater at his feet. Looking back up, he sighed: "Remus. Remus Lupin. Look, Sirius, I'd better take him to Dumbledore at once. What shall we do with…" He hesitated, looking at the young man.

"Scott Sapling," he said. The three exchanged glances; it wasn't a surname they knew at all. Seeming to read their minds, Scott explained, "I'm a half-blood. Mum was a witch, though Dad didn't know it til after she'd died. Found her school things and all that."

"Well." Remus cleared his throat and bent, scooping up the Death Eater and heaving him up on to his shoulder with a groan. Panting, he said, "It's been a pleasure, Scott. Sirius, James, I'll leave you two to figure this one out, mmm? Hogsmeade!" With a crack, he was gone.

Stupidly, Sirius found himself still looking in the spot Remus had been.

"Blimey," said the young man, standing and brushing himself off. "Been awhile since I've seen someone do  _that_."

"What, Disapparate?" James looked at him like he was mad.

The kid shrugged and looked sheepish. For whatever reason, Sirius felt suddenly protective of him. "Let off him, James. Why don't you get back to your party, then?"

James lifted his eyebrows and said something, though it was lost in a sudden roar of wind. The young man tucked himself up against Sirius, shivering.

"What?" Sirius said, trying not to feel pleased at the look on James' face.

"I said, 'And I suppose you want me to leave you alone with a potentially dangerous stranger', though you seem quite cozy together," he growled.

"I can take care of myself." Sirius glanced down at the shivering boy and looked at James, his patience gone. "Go home, James. I'm going to take Scott to my flat so he can get cleaned up. Is that all right, Scott?"

Scott nodded, and James scowled. Sirius ignored him. "I've got a flying motorbike. Hope that's okay."

Laughing, Scott's eyes went somehow wider. "A flying  _what_?"


	5. Chapter 5

Cleaned up and calmed, Scott looked closer in age to Sirius. He sat on Sirius' bed, wrapped in a bathrobe, a cup of tea in hand, and sighed. "I can't thank you enough for saving me," he said, taking a sip of his tea. His hair, darker now that it was wet, was combed back and out of his eyes.

Sirius smiled and sat down beside him. "Just doing my job," he laughed. Leaning back a bit, he took Scott in. He was handsome, in a shifty, charm-you-before-I-nick-your-things sort of way. There was something in those wide eyes of his that bespoke not innocence, but rather innocence lost- a childhood that went too fast, a life that took too much and gave too little.

Scott cleared his throat, snapping Sirius from his thoughts. "I haven't been entirely honest with you, I'm afraid," he said, scratching his nose. "See, I haven't actually  _got_ a home for you to take me back to, now that I'm, y'know, cleaned up and all."

"You're homeless?"

"Well, yeah, I have to be, don't I?" Scott said, his voice rising. "I left my dad's house as soon as I knew I could fend for myself. That was before all  _this_ , 'course." The defiant set of his jaw made Sirius look away. He understood that need, the desire to distance yourself from a family that had never been whole.

"I'm not judging you," said Sirius, his voice earnest. "I…had a bad relationship with my parents, as well. They're blood purists. Not Death Eaters, but that's not to say they mind what's happening."

"At least they're not Muggles." Scott looked at Sirius glumly. "I told you, my dad didn't know my mum was a witch. He found her old school things in the attic, two summers after she'd died. When he realized what it all meant…He watched me very closely, from that point on. Kept saying, 'Once you're eleven, then we'll know what to do with you.' I was terrified of turning eleven, Sirius." He drained his mug, his eyes vacant. "So, the day before my eleventh birthday, I ran away. I knew, of course, I  _knew_ what I was. What choice did I have?"

Sirius took his empty cup. "Come on, we'll get you some more tea." They went to the kitchen, Scott pulling his robe tight around him. Fishing in the cabinet for teabags, Sirius said, "Well, at least you weren't on your own for long. But what have you been doing since school?" Turning, Sirius fixed Scott with a quizzical look. "You're about my age, aren't you? But I'm sure you didn't go to Hogwarts. So where  _did_ you go to school?"

"Didn't," said Scott, eyeing the refrigerator. Sirius opened it and said, "Help yourself."

Doing just that, Scott went on, "I was born in Canada. Dad took me to America when he found out what mum was, so we could room with his sister in upstate New York. When I ran away, I hitchhiked my way to the city and stowed away on the first ship I could find. Didn't care where it was going." Around a mouthful of cheese, he finished, "It's a false name, Scott Sapling. Came up with it on the ship, been using it since. I mostly stayed away from the magical community after that. Reckoned they were trouble." Half-seriously, half-teasing, he looked up at Sirius and said, "I was right, wasn't I?"

Sirius laughed and passed him his tea, taking a sip from his own. "Careful; it's hot." He led Scott to the living room, settling down on the couch and mulling over Scott's story. "So, if you've never been to school…do you have a wand?"

"Nope."

Sirius gaped at him. "No? Is…is that possible?"

"Seems like it." Scott smiled. His hair was drying and it had begun falling into his eyes again, though he made no effort to push it away. "Couldn't have bought one if I wanted- which I don't, by the way. I've never set finger to a bit of Wizard money. Barely touched any Muggle money, either, if I'm honest. I get by."

Sirius didn't have much time to digest this before he was startled by the casual query: "So, what was the row, then? Between you and your boyfriend?" Sirius looked up so sharply it almost gave him vertigo. He stammered for a moment, but Scott spread his fingers, smiling, "No worries, mate, I'm not judging you. Free love and all that. But, if you don't want to talk about it…"

"He's getting married," Sirius rushed, just as surprised as Scott at the words. "His future bride is supposed to be one of my close friends."

Those wide, sea-green eyes regarded Sirius for a moment. Finally, Scott stood and sat back down just next to Sirius, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Sirius surprised himself again as his face fell into Scott's shoulder, sobs tumbling out of him, unbidden but unstoppable. "There, there," Scott said gently, patting him.

Sirius felt stupid, and weak. He sat up and wiped his face miserably. "I'm not usually like this," he said feebly.

Scott simply laughed and shook his head. "You're tired, right? Come on, let's go to bed."

Without thinking, Sirius did as he was told, following Scott back to the bedroom. He was stripping off his clothes when he paused and looked at Scott, who had already tossed the robe aside and slid, naked, under the blankets. "I could put you up on the couch," he offered, hoping Scott would decline.

Like a mindreader, Scott shook his head. "Cold night like this, why not share body heat?" He patted the bed beside him and smiled crookedly.

"You're not going to pinch all of my things, are you?"

Scott laughed and pulled the blankets up around his chin, shutting his eyes. "No, I'm not. Now come on, would you?" He peeked up from under golden lashes. "Get the light, then?"

Sirius didn't hesitate for long. He flicked off the lights, slipped out of his jeans, and crawled carefully into the bed, leaving a foot of space between himself and Scott. To his surprise, Scott slid right up against him, curling his body around Sirius'. He yawned, pressed his face into Sirius' neck…and fell promptly to sleep. Sirius listened to him snore for a moment, his whole body tingling from the feel of a strange man's warmth, until at last his own eyes grew heavy and his breathing slowed.


	6. Chapter 6

In the morning, Sirius stretched and snuggled up against who he thought was James, making happy little noises. At first the body against his replied in kind, the hand sliding across his belly and finding one of his own hands, the legs coming up and spooning into his. Then it quickly rolled away, leaving Sirius cold and suddenly awake.

"Might not want to do that, love," Scott said, his tone as conversational as though he were discussing the weather. "Might get more than you bargained for."

Sirius flushed and sat up, arranging the blankets on his lap carefully. He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Sorry about that."

Shrugging, Scott paced over to the window and peered out. Sirius couldn't help but wonder at his shamelessness, the way he walked in the nude more comfortably, it seemed, than he had fully clothed. When Scott turned back around, Sirius averted his eyes.

"Got something I could wear?"

* * *

Now dressed, Scott, Sirius, and Remus all sat in the living room, sipping tea and trying not to look at each other. It had been extraordinarily uncomfortable when Scott and Sirius had come out of the bedroom together to find Remus tidying the flat. Remus had taken one look at the pair of them, then a quick glance at the mussed bed in the background, and laughed awkwardly.

"Well, I suppose I should be getting on, then," Scott said, standing. He smoothed his sweatshirt and said, "Thanks for the clothes, Sirius. Maybe we'll meet again and I can give them back?"

"Wait!" Sirius stood up, trying to ignore Remus' presence. "We can't just send you back out into the streets." Scott started to protest, but Sirius held up a hand. "The Death Eaters will be looking for you. And you're a half-blood. They'll kill you."

"He's right," said Remus, quietly.

Scott looked at them each in turn and frowned. "So now what? I'm of no use to your little organization. I'm practically a Squib."

Remus cocked an eyebrow, and Sirius burned with embarrassment at the look on his face. "You're not a Squib," Sirius said lamely. "But it doesn't matter. We have safehouses. We can hide you away."

"Sure, Dumbledore will see to it," Remus agreed, though he still wore an amused expression.

Scott considered for a moment and shrugged. In a hurry to get out of the house, Sirius said, "Well, that's that settled! Come on, Scott, and we'll go see Dumbledore."

* * *

"Never seen such a polite werewolf," said Scott, once they were on the motorbike and in the air.

Sirius nearly choked. "What..how'd you know?"

"Easy! I've spent a lot of time around werewolves- not willingly of course, mind. But they like to prey on the homeless, when they can't or won't leave the city." Scott leaned over the edge of the bike and beamed. "What a view! I'd never tire of this."

"There's Hogwarts now," said Sirius, pointing down at the castle. He scanned the spires and grounds wistfully as their elevation gradually dropped.

* * *

"Of course," said Dumbledore at once. "And, should you wish, we would be happy to arrange a tutor for you. I could take you to Ollivander's immediately."

"No, thanks." Scott stared at the portraits of the previous headmasters, who stared back at him, sniffing haughtily.

"What do you think you're looking at?" asked one of them, an old man in plum top-hat. Scott just laughed and made a face at him, earning the back of his retreating head.

"You don't wish to learn how to control your magic?" asked Dumbledore. Sirius could only blink at the pair of them in disbelief.

Scott turned around and shrugged. In the low light of the office, his skin was pale and bright, his freckles like tiny clouds scattered over the face of the moon. "Not really my thing," he explained patiently.

To Sirius' continued amazement, Dumbledore accepted this answer and moved on without hesitation. "Since you're best acquainted with Sirius, and since his motorbike suits our need fine, he will transport you at once. Sirius, if you could, take him to the Langsdale house immediately. Tell them he'll need clothing, toiletries, and any other essentials, and that they should use this-" he set a pouch down on his desk with a great clinking of coins- "to purchase them. Please also alert them to his preferences regarding magic, and ask that they show him the same kindness and patience we show to all of our refugees." He smiled, and Sirius couldn't help but notice how tired he looked. "Now, if you both will excuse me, I really must get to the Ministry."

"It's been rebuilt, then?" asked Sirius.

"Relocated." Dumbledore stood and sighed. "And given the best security measures in existence. But it is still not safe. Not yet." If anything, his words seemed to make him seem more tired, and so Sirius led Scott from the room as quickly as possible, trying not to imagine what could have a man like Dumbledore so worried.

* * *

Langsdale was in Scotland, only a short flight from the castle, but it was a secluded little hamlet with a great deal of protective magic surrounding it, so Sirius felt okay about taking Scott there. Moreover, he was very fond of the family that took in refugees there and their bright, boisterous home. It was no surprise to Sirius when the Rothsens, a pair of silver-haired witches, greeted Scott as warmly as though he were returning family. Standing in the doorway, Sirius spied a pair of Muggleborn girls in the background arguing over a small toy broomstick, a dog nosing about in his food dish, and a fat sow passing through the living room area, her snout wiggling as she oinked.

"Come in, Sirius, don't be a stranger!" cooed Arabella, the younger of the two witches. She slipped her arm through Sirius' and led him inside.

Pomona- Arabella's "lover and soul mate", as she had described herself during their first meeting- nodded towards a flight of stairs. "Kettle's on," she said in her smoke-tinged drawl. "Arie was just fixing a spot of supper, if you're hungry." She didn't wait for him to reply, instead heading towards the kitchen and calling back, "Be a good boy and take Scott up to one of the spare rooms? We'll set you a place."

Sirius smiled at Scott, who was looking around in his usual way, his eyes wide and his jaw tight. "Come on," he said, taking Scott's hand carefully. When he didn't pull away, Sirius led him slowly up the stairs, giving him time to take the place in. The house was deceivingly large, and they were on the fourth floor before Sirius found an empty room and pulled Scott into it.

"It's like an apartment-house," Scott breathed. He was looking around the room, touching every surface.

"This is one of my favorite places on the planet," said Sirius. He sat down on the bed and ran his fingers along the seam of the quilt. "They're wonderful people, here. You'll be well looked-after."

"I shouldn't be here."

"And why not?"

Scott frowned, looking out the window at the hills outside, speckled with sheep. "I'm putting these people at risk, aren't I?"

"This house is safe." Sirius stood and walked over to him, touching his shoulder lightly. "And all the others here, with the exception of Arabella and Pomona, are refugees as well. There's not a person under this roof right now with pure blood, save them and me."

Scott chuckled a little at that and took Sirius' hand from his shoulder, holding it in his own for a moment before letting it go. "Stay here tonight."

"I shouldn't." The answer was immediate.

"Right." Scott smiled widely. "But do it anyway, won't you?"


	7. Chapter 7

They made love very slowly, Sirius lying in Scott's arms, enjoying the warmth of him along his back. They barely made any noise at all, just little sighs and deep breaths, and when it was over Sirius fell right to sleep.

* * *

Sirius woke up to streaming sunlight and an empty bed. He clambered out of bed and dressed slowly, his mind drifting. The sight of the condom in the bin brought him back.

_Did we really…_

_Did I really…_

_How could I have done that to James?_

In a fog, he trailed downstairs and planted himself at the kitchen table. Arabella gave him a smirk and two pieces of buttered toast. "Made everything you see here ourselves," she bragged, still smirking. "The bread's still warm. Try it." Sirius obeyed politely.

"Merlin's pants," he groaned. The bread was exceptional, the butter salty and sweet (was that honey mixed in?), the tea that Arie slid to him steaming and strong. "I might never leave."

"Mm, but what's keeping you?" Pomona slipped in, her hair wild and her pajamas wrinkled, and fell into a seat with a yawn. "The food, or the little number upstairs?"

Sirius made a face, but Arabella cut off his reply: "Now, now, Ms. Mona, mind your manners." She smiled and slid Pomona her breakfast. Before long, the house was lively with children shouting and adults hunched over teacups, asking for news about the war. Sirius gave them what little he could, but it wasn't long before he began to worry and excused himself.

He took the stairs as quickly as he could manage and threw open Scott's bedroom door…to find Scott lying in his bed, a book in hand. He peered over the pages at Sirius, smiling crookedly. "I thought you'd gone."

For some reason, seeing him there was a relief.  _I thought the same about you_ , Sirius almost said, but he stopped himself. Instead he said, "I probably should be going."

Scott nodded and laid his book down carefully. Crossing the room, he gave Sirius a big, friendly hug. "Come and see us sometime soon, won't you?"

"Scott…" Sirius felt he ought to say something more, but he didn't know what, so he only sighed. "Thanks," he said at last, feeling inadequate.

"Back at you, mate," smiled Scott as he fell back into bed. He scooped the book up and disappeared into it, not even looking up when Sirius turned and pulled the door closed behind him.

* * *

Sirius spent his flight home thinking a vast array of terrible and exciting things. He  _loved_ James with every piece of himself…but he hated him sometimes, hated the way he could flip off his love for Sirius as though it had a switch. How else could he explain his feelings for Lily? Sirius didn't think it was possible that James loved them both equally, and it seemed quite clear to Sirius that James had chosen Lily in the end. That had always been simply too painful for Sirius to consider…except that things were different now. If Sirius was honest with himself, he had an awful relationship with sex. He spent his pre-teen and teen years pretending to shag a vast multitude of girls when in reality the closest he got to sex were the few moments of each shower he spent thinking about James after Quidditch practice and trying not to moan aloud. Then there was that whole thing with Severus Snape, who took his virginity one evening in sixth year. It seemed they spent that whole year climbing all over each other, and then trying to murder one another. What was that? It wasn't casual sex, and it sure as hell wasn't love. Sirius couldn't define it but he could definitely see why it was best that it had ended.

And then there was James. Everything about James made Sirius weak and hungry with lust: his dark hair, his quick eyes, the line of his spine, the feel of his chest. Sirius couldn't think around James. Sometimes it seemed he had to take a step back just to breathe.

But sex with Scott had been different. It wasn't the violent and hateful act it was with Snape, nor was it the adoring, breathtaking experience it was with James. It had been a nice middle ground. Fun, enjoyable, and emotion-free. No strings attached. He didn't worry about Scott telling everyone what had happened or dangling his emotions over his head. He didn't worry about Scott breaking his heart. He didn't worry. It was the first time Sirius had done anything sexual and not spent the next day making himself sick over what was going to happen next.

_What a tremendous relief._

There were clubs in London, packed full to the brim with boys like Scott. Easygoing, easy getting. No expectations. What's your name, who cares. Sirius had always considered himself above such places, but…

Now the only thing that gnawed at him was what James would think. But why did James need to know? He had Lily; why didn't Sirius deserve to find affection where he could get it, as well? What made James so bloody special that he could choose between one warm bed or the other, but Sirius had to spend frustrated nights alone? James satisfied Sirius when he could, but their time together was becoming rare. The Order, Lily…soon it would be babies, and maybe, when the war was through, it would be a real Ministry job and grandchildren and holidays and family photos and where did Sirius fit into any of that?

He didn't. That was the simple answer. He didn't.

And while it was so painful to come to that realization, it was also freeing. Because if James' life was too full for Sirius, and Sirius' life was too empty without James…well, there was an easy way to solve that. All Sirius had to do was fill the empty spaces.


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you even listening to me?"

Sirius looked up into Remus' agitated face and nodded as earnestly as he could. The little Italian restaurant was crowded, noisy…the murmur of other people's conversation and the steady drone of Remus' complaints had allowed his attention to wander to more pressing issues. Tapping out a cigarette, Sirius struggled to listen as Remus ranted: "…well, of course I minded, but I wasn't going to say as much, so I simply said, 'No, love, I don't mind', which wasn't what I should have said, I realize now, but what was I supposed to do with her looking at me like that…" Sirius suppressed a yawn and glanced around the crowded space, giving a few of the waiters appreciative once-overs.

Remus snapped his fingers and said, loudly, "If whatever you're thinking about is so bloody interesting, let's talk about that instead."

"Ha. I don't think that's a great idea," Sirius said, smiling lasciviously.

Instead of smiling like Sirius had expected, Remus frowned. "So I suppose you're thinking about the parade of young men streaming in and out of your bedroom, then."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "You know full well what it means. First it was that strange kid, Sapling. Then all the others…do  _you_ even know their names?" He shook his head. "It doesn't seem right, doing that to James."

"Oh, but what he's doing to me is fine?" Sirius stood, his chair scraping.

"Sit back down." Sirius didn't budge, so Remus added, politely, "Please."

Slowly, Sirius sank back into his chair. He smoked sullenly for a moment before saying, "When you and Alice got together, you knew she was married. You also knew she wasn't the sort of woman to just run off and shirk her responsibilities. So she missed your one-year anniversary, who cares! She was out doing work for the Order!"

"So she says." Remus stirred his food around. "She tells Frank that, when she's with me. 'Oh, Order business love, gotta run.' What if she's just playing me for a fool?"

Sirius put out his smoke and tossed back his wine, tapping the empty glass and looking at their waiter pointedly. "Remus, honestly." He smiled at his refilled glass and took a big swig. "If you think Alice is having a go with someone else then, well, do the very same thing. If it comes to nothing, she doesn't need to know about it, but if it turns out she  _is_  'making the two-backed beast' with some other dumb lug, at least you're still on even footing."

"I don't even have words to describe how despicable you are." Remus sipped his wine carefully. His words didn't sting, though they could if he'd wanted. Looking at Sirius, he half-smiled and said, "So, I suppose that's your plan with James, then? So that when he really does it, when he really goes through with the wedding, you can hurt him as much as it will hurt you?"

That stung. "Or maybe I'm just enjoying myself, Remus. You ought to give it a go 'round. If you haven't noticed, we're both young, attractive blokes. There's a war on, and everything's uncertain…" He shrugged. "I want to live a little. While I've had the chance."

"And if that means hurting your best friend, who still sleeps in your bed at least once every couple weeks…"

"Then so be it." Sirius swallowed hard. "I still love him, Remus, if that's what you're getting at. But he can't possibly love me. Not like he does her, right?"

"You're so naïve. It's like speaking to a child." Remus laughed. "Grow up, Sirius."

"Oh, piss off." Sirius stood and pushed away from the table again, but this time he pulled a wad of Muggle money from the pocket of his blazer and threw it on the table. He went to walk away and stopped. Leaning in towards Remus, he breathed, "You think you know so much; well, try this on for size. Alice has a husband, and a home, and a career. The only thing she didn't have, before you anyway, was someone to follow her like a puppy and fuck her however and whenever she pleased. You're so lovesick, analyzing every moment…but you're nothing to her but an easy lay that is swiftly becoming too complicated."

Remus looked like he wanted to hit him, and Sirius waited for a moment, giving him the chance. But when the moment had passed, Sirius laughed and walked out of the restaurant, hopping on to his motorbike and speeding drunkenly away.

* * *

"I was pissed."

"As was I."

"And an arse."

"Me, as well."

"Should've left well enough alone, I should have."

"Even what wasn't well enough. None of my damned business, anyway."

"The stress from work…"

"…The full moon…"

"…The war…."

"…The very things we were arguing about, even!"

"Right. We're friends."

"Flatmates."

"Marauders."

"Brothers, practically."

Sirius beamed at Remus through the fog of his hangover. "Let's not fight anymore."

"Never again." Remus crossed his heart and grinned.

* * *

Weeks passed. Remus and Sirius fought on and off about a great variety of things, as flatmates do. Remus and Alice fought (more often than not) as lovers do. James slept over less and less. Sirius took lovers whenever he wanted, and drank more than he should. Peter appeared, at times, his hair darker and longer each time. There was something about him Sirius found extremely unappealing, even more so than he had in school, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Most of the time Dumbledore kept Peter on guard duty at the Ministry or doing rounds to check on some of the safehouses.

Lily planned her wedding…and planned, and planned, and planned. The Potters were footing the bill, and they wanted extravagance. They had rented a cathedral in Spain (Spain!), arranged for caterers and florists and other seemingly important people who spouted words like "pastels" and "arrangements" and "dripping with pearls". Sirius' mind boggled at the immensity of the thing, and he wondered vaguely how he was going to get through such an elegant ceremony sober.

When he brought up the topic of spirits with Remus, his friend got a positively wolfish look on his face.


End file.
